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Spoken version
A recorded reading of “A Dance with Death”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
Swirls of barbed feeling volunteer to jump— I let them spiral, twisting like serpents around my trembling core. Turning guides switch sides; somewhere a porch bulb coughs and gives up on the dark. The future plays loaded. A shaved deck—then cards slap the felt with a wet edge I don’t name. Let the fight for my death continue— I watch with tired eyes, a groundsman with a chipped spade standing at the lip of his own pit. But oh, lighthearted death, how you smirk from the wings, amused at how we cling to what keeps slipping. Your embrace is cold, and I welcome it, like a partner who knows the steps. Remember me, or forget me— it’s all the same in this slow turn of dust and shadow. For in the end, what are we but echoes thinned to a single breath as the pit’s mouth closes over our names.
Alternative version
Swirls of protruding hatred volunteer to jump— I let them spiral, twisting like serpents around my trembling core. Turning guides switch sides as shadows laugh, stars blink out in the madness of night. Anticipation is a delusion, a game where the dice are loaded and the cards fall bloodied from invisible hands. Let the fight for my death continue— I watch with tired eyes, a soldier with a broken sword standing at the edge of his own grave. But oh, lighthearted death, how you smirk in the dark, amused by how we cling to what’s already slipping. Your embrace is cold, but I welcome it, like a lover who never truly leaves. Remember me, or forget me— it’s all the same in this dance of shadows and flames. For in the end, what are we but echoes swallowed by the night, laughing as we fall into the depths we’ve always feared?
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